


Sickening

by bloominglungs



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, Oral Sex, girl on top, he takes it like a champ, it's more smut lads, pieck sits on his face, rimjob, submissive porco, what a lad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:34:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29595618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloominglungs/pseuds/bloominglungs
Summary: His clothes, his sheets, his skin smell like her, like powdered sugar. And he doesn't know why.
Relationships: Pieck Finger/Porco Galliard
Comments: 14
Kudos: 79





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Back at it again with smut nobody asked for. No cucumbers this time. Was meant to be a one-shot but I suck so now you'll have to wait for the actual smut because I love keeping y'all on ya toes. Enjoy!
> 
> And as always, wear a mask, keep social distancing and, for the love of Christ and Mary, don't sneeze or cough on people.

This sickening scent of sugar seems to linger on my skin, on my sheets, on my clothes. It’s even stronger than the smell of cigarettes I leave behind on everything I touch after a fag and I can’t wash it away or make it disappear, not even by leaving the window open all day. I scrub myself with soap until my skin is red and still, I smell the sugar on me. My body is tired, but not as tired as my clouded mind and maybe I should just lie back and enjoy the hot water before it cools down…  _ Maybe I’ve gone mad… _

My arm dangles off the edge of the bathtub, the worries drowning in the soapy water, my mind floating to nicer shores. The sound of the rain against the roof lulls me into an almost sleep-like state of existing, just me in that tub, naked and unafraid, free for a moment to wander into my fantasies as my hand roams down my torso. I close my eyes and my mind is invaded by thoughts of all kinds, but mostly the  _ unspeakable _ kind. 

The smell of sugar seems to linger and it’s stronger by my bedroom door as if its source lies inside my very own chambers. And, unsurprisingly enough, the scent takes over my nostrils as soon as I open the door. It’s as if I’m suddenly wrapped in a candied apple or a piece of toffee. 

“Shit, you startled me!”

The shapeless figure on my bed moves, a pile of beige fabric gaining shape out of nowhere, and it takes me a few seconds to notice the vast blackness of her hair atop her small head. 

“Poky, you bathed,” she half-speaks, half-whimpers in that gentle voice of hers. My eyes follow hers and I noticed them landing on my naked, shimmering torso. A rush of heat ascends into my cheeks and I blame it on the closed window on a hot summer’s night.

“D-don’t call me that, Pieck!”

She knows I despise the silly nickname she has given me as much as I hate my given name and I’d rather just be referred to by my family name but she is immovable in her quest to be slightly irritating, in her own  _ adorable _ way.

“You smell nice,” she comments, a sly grin on that round face of hers. I should be used to her uncalled for flattery by now, but I can’t bring myself to become accustomed to the way she seems to always have something mildly embarrassing to say. I’m not sure whether to be terrified of her or aroused by her. Maybe I’m a bit of both.

“You smell sickening,” I reply, harsher than planned. She knows that’s just my awful sense of humour, I’m sure of it. “Like you just rolled naked in powdered sugar or something…”

I hear her chuckles as if from a distance - even though she’s right there - as I suddenly reach some kind of superior realisation, to the tune of a comment about her being naked. My brain isn’t sure what emotion to feel and my body isn’t sure which to express, and I somehow feel them all at once. She smells like powdered sugar…  _ It’s her!  _ How her scent got on me so deeply, I have no idea.

“Thinking about me naked sounds a bit naughty, doesn’t it?”

Even her voice is sweet.  _ Sickening...! _

“If you wanted to see it so bad, you should have just asked…”

“Pieck, can you please leave while I get changed?”

If resisting is futile, trying to reason with her is even worse. A clever girl, she is, always with an answer ready in the tip of her tongue, always a strategy of some kind in that brain of hers. 

“I promise I won’t look,” she giggles and I really have no comeback for that, no clever one-liner. This woman disarms me in all the ways imaginable. I let out a groan in protest, knowing I can’t possibly convince her to leave, not when she’s so comfortable lying down on my bed, as she often does. 

“Why do you like my bed so much? It’s exactly the same as yours!” I ask, my back facing her as I struggle to keep the towel around my waist from falling while I look for fresh clothes to wear. _ I wish I was a bit more organised…!  _ “Same mattress, same sheets, same pillows…”

I hear her chuckle under her breath the way she always does, like a child stealing your popsicle right out of your hands and shoving it in their mouth with the cutest little most diabolical grin on their stupid little face. I finally find a pair of leisure trousers and a plain black tee-shirt to wear to bed. Not that I ever wear tops to bed, but the idea of staying shirtless in her presence causes my stomach to twist in an impossible knot.

“But your bed smells like you, Poky,” she explains in her usual playful voice and I can  _ hear _ the smirk in her tone, along with the sound of the bed shifting. “And I like the way you smell.”

I can sense that she’s definitely staring at my back now, with those big doe eyes of hers, smiling to herself after saying something so unthinkable like it’s nothing. Pieck really has a way of taking the shits right out of my arse and I still don’t know whether to be scared shitless or horny when I think of her or when she’s running her mouth.  _ I wish she was running her mouth on my skin… _

“Please stop looking, Pieck, that’s very rude,” I plead, a certain weakness in my voice that I wish hadn’t been there. 

“How do you know I’m looking?”

“I can  _ feel _ it.”

“What else can you  _ feel _ ?”

I attempt to slide the trousers on underneath the towel, as I know she’s still looking and I cannot handle any more humiliation but I’m so lightheaded and giddy that I end up falling square on the hard-wood floors, my wet and limp body caving in the weight of all this shame. Her giggles are sickening but, even worse, is the way she asks if I’m alright.  _ Of course I’m alright, I’m not a child!  _

“I can feel your  _ frustration _ , that’s for certain.”

“You’re a demon,” I mutter under my breath, clumsily getting up like I’m not a warrior skilled in combat, agile and strong. 

“It’s in my blood,” she comments, laughing to herself like she’s just told the funniest joke which,  _ fair enough.  _ But it’s what she says next that truly catches me off-guard, unprepared and renders me beyond speechless. “Hurry up and come to bed…”

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That's it, that's the smut.

“Hurry up and come to bed...”

I’m still sat on the floor, the towel come undone under my bottom and I’m too tired to hide my body now that she’s seen more than I cared to show anyway. Her comment shall go unnoticed, she must have been drinking or something.

“I told you to stop staring, Pieck.”

Right now, I feel mostly frustrated. She never listens- or pretends not to,- as long as it satisfies her in some way. At times, her teasing is fun, but some days I can’t cope with Pieck and her little jokes. Today is just one of those days, I guess. I can still feel her eyes on me, gawking at my backside like a hungry lioness in search of her next prey. She’s seen me shirtless a couple of times, but in different contexts where it didn’t feel so intimate, so raw. The heat in my face just feels more overwhelming with every passing second and, defeated, I decide to just leave the towel behind and put my trousers on, one leg at a time, and let Pieck have her ten seconds of pleasure. There’s no winning with this girl...!

“You’re going to sleep here?”

Sleeping in my bed is something she often does, for some reason I have yet to fully uncover and her excuse of liking my smell just doesn’t stick with me. When that happens, I usually just end up sleeping on the floor, and she seems perfectly pleased with such an arrangement, even though I personally would prefer it if she just went to her own bed. That would spare me some backaches.

“I’m not interested in sleeping,” she hums, eyeing me from head to toe, her eyes lingering on my chest for some reason. “Come to bed, Pocky...”

“What’s gotten into you,” I question, eyebrows raised and mouth slightly agape at the audacity she’s displaying. No matter how many times I hear her say this sort of thing, I never seem to get used to it. “You’re acting odd, Pieck.”

I take a seat on the little wooden stool next to my bed and avoid looking at her face directly, my gaze randomly focusing on anything less embarrassing, like a spot on the bed next to her head. I can sense my cheeks are flushed and I know she’s picked up on it, like she picks up on everything. It will be a matter of minutes until she makes a remark about it. She shifts in bed, from her usual starfish position to lying down on her side, facing me. She props her elbow on the mattress and holds her head in her hand, hawk-like eyes fixated on me and I can’t bring myself to meet her gaze. Her other hand comes to rest on my thigh, now clothed but still feeling pretty much naked. I let out a small gasp, mortifying in its eagerness. Pieck’s fingertips dance calmly around my thigh and I glance at her face for a millisecond just in order to confirm that she is, indeed, grinning in smug self-praise. I did it again, I made Porco feel humiliated and sort of horny, I’m so victorious...!

“What took you so long in the bath?”

Her question comes out of nowhere, interrupting the few minutes of pleasant silence that I was getting used to, as her hand slowly grazes up and down my thigh, occasionally squeezing down hard on the flesh, earning yet another degrading whimper from me.

I had managed to keep my flustered cheeks at bay, feeling my face much colder now but those eight words and the ravenous look in her eyes causes the blood to surge to my face yet again. I stutter, unsure what to do with my body, my limbs freezing up as I try to think of a way to just get out of this situation entirely. It doesn’t help that her hand has got so close to my crotch that she’s a couple of heartbeats away from just touching my manhood altogether which, by the way, has risen a bit and sits there, uncomfortably halfway between rock-solid and embarrassingly limp.

“Pieck, what are you doing?”

My question is always the same — what are you doing, why are you doing it, what good can possibly come of this? I’m torn between getting up and ending this nonsense or just letting her have her moment. I could just let her fondle me a bit more. Would it hurt? It’s not like I’ve not lusted after Pieck for a while now. Because I have. I have dreamt of her long black hair cascading down her back as she bounces on me, facing the other way because seeing her face contort with pleasure would melt me into the mattress like an ice cube in the sun on a hot day. I have thought of her in the depths of night, while Reiner snores away on the opposite side of the room and the moonlight touches my face. But she’s odd, terrifying and, mostly, she’s my friend and comrade. What would become of us if I gave in now?

“Take this off,” her voice sounds sultry as she pinches at the fabric of my trousers, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. I look away almost as quickly as the erratic heartbeat threatening to burst out of my chest. “Don’t be shy, Porco.”

And the given name I despise so much, it sounds like pure runny honey dripping out of her mouth, slow and gentle, just the way I like it. But I am shy, at least when Pieck is around. For someone who strives to be valiant in every waking moment, I sure am rendered useless and weak whenever she is involved. Her hand inches closer to my crotch, painfully slow and my mind goes hazy, wrapped in fog. My head is thrown back, blonde hair dishevelled but who gives a fuck? I sure don’t, not when Pieck is ghosting her fingers over my clothed member, ever so softly. The smell of sugar that always seems to encase her is driving me mad, it’s so sickeningly sweet, so unbearable. But I want to taste it, have it melt in my mouth like a caramel… Her low hums echo in my ears, so pleasant and calming but so enticing and seductive.

“P-Pieck, what-” I never finish the sentence. Before I can conjure up anything to say, her chubby fingers are swiftly wrapped around me, through my trousers and I wish I had had the brilliant thought of putting on underpants. She palms at my semi-hard member and I can feel it grow against her small hand as her eyes attentively study my small motions against the stool.

“Come to bed already.” She sounds mildly annoyed, like a teacher after explaining the exact same concept for the tenth time but none of the students seem to understand it. “You’ll injure your back.”

A sudden burst of laughter erupts from my lungs, loud and contagious, causing Pieck to chuckle too. Even if I did injure my back, it would just heal within a few minutes and that doesn’t matter in the slightest because I’ll be dead in, like, ten years anyway. Who cares if my back is fucked? The laughter subsides as my legs take a life of their own and I find my back against the bedpost, sitting upright next to Pieck on the bed. She’s scooched over a bit to the side to make space for me and her head rests against the soft pillow I drool on every night. I take a deep, sharp breath when her hand begins to roam again, this time inside my trousers, her hot skin coming into contact with the sensitive tip of my cock. I can’t take this any more...! Lifting my butt off the bed, I slide my trousers down until they’re at my knees, by which point I offer them an unceremonious kick, and they fly off to the floor somewhere. Pieck moves, propping herself up, parting my legs with her hands and positioning her small body in between my spread knees. Her eyes look as half-lidded as always, a glimmer to them I don’t often see. She stretches her arms out, hands on the headboard, my head in between them. Her face is so close to mine I can feel her hot breath on my skin and I want to resist this urge to melt under her touch but my body is frozen in place as her lips gingerly brush against mine, all feather-like and dainty.

“Pieck...”

I almost utter the same question yet again and I know she wouldn’t have given me a straight answer, no matter how many times I ask. And melting is just something that happens to me when her lips are on mine again, much more deliberate this time and I feel her hand grabbing onto my own, pulling it towards her ass, wordlessly urging me to do something. My mind is wrapped in fog, it takes me about a minute to figure out that what she wants is for me to be as churlish in bed with her as I am towards some people in normal social situations. It’s difficult to oblige. Pieck is such a fair young woman, standing barely taller than the kids, her baggy clothes hiding her figure, round face and pristine skin making her look younger than she truly is. How can I possibly begin to corrupt her, even when she’s the one corrupting me?

She kisses like she has done it many times before and I have to fight the odd mental images of Pieck and Zeke hiding somewhere to consume each other — in a figurative sense. She always seemed awfully close to him, the older man with the beard and the glasses, always smoking outside. Her low moan is what, thankfully, brings me back to reality so I can just forget about the weird visions of her with the traitorous (former) Warchief. I finally decide to kiss back and grant her wish of groping her ass as I do, my other hand snaking its way up her side until it lands on her cheek and finds a resting spot there, my thumb tenderly caressing her skin as our lips move together, slowly but with ardour. The hand that had been on mine, coaxing me to grope her bottom, has travelled to my torso and ventured underneath my shirt, feeling my body. I’m self-conscious of my own existence, if only for a minute. She pulls away, a string of saliva still connecting our lips, and she pulls at my shirt, taking it off and throwing it over her head. I find myself naked underneath her fully-clothed touch and her mouth has taken to roaming down my neck, peppering delicate kisses down its length. A hand comes to touch my cock once again, sliding up and down, and I am embarrassed by the high-pitched moan that comes out of my mouth.

She’s quick to decide she’s done with the teasing and it takes only about a minute for my cock to be between her lips, twitching and red as she takes more of it in her mouth, inch by inch. All I see is a curtain of raven hair which I move away from her face with my hands, very gently pushing it behind each of her ears. She lazily looks up at me, her eyes as mellow as always, as she continues taking my dick in her mouth and I feel my tip hit the back of her throat.

“Oh my God...”

I feel her chuckle, the vibrations sending my cock into overdrive, and she slowly begins to bob her head, never letting go of my cock. She’s definitely done this before but I’d rather keep that thought far away from my head. A woman so beautiful, so tender, with such soft and fair skin, how can she possibly be doing this to me?

Pieck stops just short of making me come, an innocent smile plastered on her pretty face, and she lies down on her stomach, hooking her arms underneath my legs, burying her face in my crotch.

“Pieck!”

I don’t even know how to react when I feel her tongue toying at my entrance, her arms unhooking from under my legs to come help with the task of licking my arse. She uses her hands to spread my cheeks apart, licking and kissing the delicate skin. There’s a certain humiliation, a soft touch of shame to the feeling of having her tongue on my arse but the pleasure it shoots through my body quickly makes me forget about everything else. I bring my right hand to my cock and begin to stroke, but she slaps my hand away, looking up for a second and I know not to disobey her. The sensations I experience as her mouth explores uncharted territory are not something I can easily explain. It’s electrifying, heavenly, like the early stages of an orgasm that won’t fully bloom. My cock twitches by itself and I have to resist the urge to touch it, as that would make Miss Pieck mad.

She abruptly stops her ministrations and sits up to remove her jacket, folding it neatly at the feet of the bed. She gets up, stepping onto the wooden floor and I watch as she sheds the rest of her clothes, teasingly slow in her movements. She decides to move her jacket to the little stool by my bed where I sat before and her white button-up shirt soon follows, also aptly folded. I’ve only ever seen her somewhat undressed when we were younger, at the swimming lessons but, back then, she still had the body of a teenager that looked nothing like what I have before me now. She’s plump and shapely, her breasts large even when contained by her black brassiere. Her hips are pudgy, her belly soft. She has strong sturdy thighs and I want nothing more than to get lost in between them.

Her brassiere and knickers are finally placed on top of her other clothes, finally revealing her naked form which I’ve been dreaming about for a while, longer than I care to admit. There’s a sly grin on her face as she climbs on the bed again, this time straddling me and I can’t help the hand that reaches out to fondle one of her breasts, kneading at it as if to make sure they’re as soft as they look. She smiles, hunching close in order to kiss me on the mouth yet again, her hips grinding against mine and I can feel how wet she is. Did I do this? The realisation that I am, indeed, responsible for her current state hits me like a thousand bricks and I can feel my cheeks heating up more than before. I must be so red. She seems to like it, however, as she breaks the kiss in order to take a good look at me, smiling sweetly, as sweetly as she smells. She brings a hand down, gripping my member and guiding it inside of her, sinking slowly on it as she gets used to the stretch.

“Oh Pocky...”

She sounds delighted, ecstatic even, throwing her head back as she begins to move, her hands on my chest pressing firmly as she steadies herself. The nickname still infuriates me but I’d rather keep quiet now and let her take me to the stars. She’s happy to oblige, moving at a languid pace, sinking into my cock so deliciously. Bending down, she captures my lips yet again. It’s sloppy and wet but it’s perfect, deep felt. No, not now, Galliard! My year-old struggle resurfaces in my mind–she’s your comrade, your friend! She has about four years left to live and I have probably twice as many. I don’t want to think about a world without Pieck in it, a world where I can’t penetrate her, kiss her, tell her how much I love her...

“Are you okay?”

She stops her motions and sits back up, this time the look in her eyes isn’t seductive or mischievous, it’s a look of deep concern as her hand cups my face and I can taste a tear that made its way down my cheek towards my lips. Fuck...!

“I’m fine, it’s just-”

“Am I overwhelming you, Pocky?”

She kisses me again, her hips returning to their movement. I wrap my arms around her and pull her close, as close as I can, to remind myself that she’s here now and this moment is real and that is something I’ll take to my grave, be it in two days or ten years. I could confess my feelings but that would be lame and probably ruin this whole thing so I just urge her to move faster as I near my own climax.

“I’m so close, fuck...”

“Close to what?”

She abruptly stops, my cock buried deep inside of her as she looks right into my eyes with her dark ones. “Close to what, Pocky?”

“Close to coming, Pieck, please-”

I didn’t mean to sound so frenzied, so restless, but my voice betrays me once more with the way it comes out as a mewl. She seems satisfied, however, and continues to bounce on my cock, faster and harder until I’m shooting ropes of cream inside of her, completely taken over by euphoria, seeing stars behind my eyelids. Before I can ask whether or not she’s orgasmed, she’s lifting herself off of me, a trail of come oozing down her leg. I don’t have much time to admire my work, though, because now her crotch is directly above my face, and she takes a seat. I hear her chuckling when my arms wrap around her thighs and I begin to tongue at her vulva, clumsy and awkward kisses and licks pressed against her. I can taste myself and I couldn’t give less of a fuck because all I want to do is take her to heaven, make her squirm and thrash in pleasure. It’s the least I can do for her. She begins to circle her hips as I get the hang of this whole thing, my teeth very gently nipping at her clitoris in a way that makes her tremble above me. She’s close, I know it.

“Oh my goodness...”

That’s the last thing she says before I feel her thighs quiver against my calloused hands, her moans so delicious I make a mental note to not forget them, ever. When she gets up, legs trembling as if she’s dizzy, I realise my entire face is damp with her juices mixed with my own and I brace myself upon getting up. My head spins for a moment. I’m glad I have a bucket of fresh water in the room (which I like to use to wash my face first thing in the morning) and I don’t have to go all the way back to the restroom.

“Hurry up and come to bed, Pieck.”

I smile victoriously to myself for turning her line against her. She finishes washing herself up and wiping herself dry and makes her way towards me again, walking slowly as if she’s just now learned how to walk on her hind legs. It’s sort of amusing, sort of adorable. She’s adorable and lovely, clever and perceptive, as intelligent as she is charming, even when she’s annoying the fuck out of me with her coarse playfulness. The bed is small but we manage to both fit. Pieck’s head rests on my chest and I stroke her hair, hearing her hum to herself.

“You wanna sleep here, don’t you?”

She doesn’t say anything. I look down to find she has closed her eyes and has most likely fallen asleep. Soon, I too begin to feel unbearably tired and close my eyes, hoping to myself that this isn’t a dream.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the little epilogue blurb!
> 
> Thanks to everyone who left nice comments on this story, here and on tumblr dot com (jour-de-printemps), kudos, likes and all the positive interaction.
> 
> Have a wonderful day/night, eat your veggies and stay hydrated. <3

Days slowly melt into nights, over and over before I muster the courage to confront Pieck with what happened between us. She acts far too normal, far too comfortable with the situation, while I do nothing but pine for her. She’s not slept in my bed since that night and has barely spared me more than her usual words, as if her lips hadn’t been on me just days prior.

Even Reiner has picked up on my anguish, offering his flask of Marleyan whiskey, which I declined the first couple of times but ended up accepting after seeing Pieck excitedly talking to one of her Panzer Unit boys. She seems to be a magnet for men, with her pretty face, rounded features and low-tone voice. Of course she’s popular- she’s lovely and soft-spoken, the smartest person I’ve ever known. I can’t blame these boys for drooling all over her when I’ve been doing the same thing for a while now. For someone as clever as she is, Pieck seems happily unaware that she makes heads turn. I wonder if she’s acting silly on purpose, or she chooses to ignore it.

She nonchalantly sits next to me on the porch, drinking from her own flask, her usual sweet scent mixed with the musky aroma of the whiskey. It smells of strong spices, like the milk my brother used to make for us when we were children. I feel a bit dizzy after several sips out of Reiner’s flask, which is unusual given that I am always the one who can handle booze. Maybe it’s her presence that’s intoxicating.

“I wanted to tell you something, Pocky.”

I feel her fingers comb through my hair. I haven’t styled it today, so it’s not sleekily pushed back as usual; instead, it falls over my eyes a little. I don’t want to look at her right now, not when she has her hair away from her face, some strands clipped to the sides of her head with bobby pins. She seems to have some kind of colourful powder on her cheeks, too, sloppily applied.

“I’m all ears,” I sigh, taking another sip of Reiner’s drink and attempting not to look absolutely disgusted. It tastes like someone dumped a whole bottle of ethanol on my spiced milk but the way it makes my throat warm as it descends is comforting enough.

Her hand is on my back now, slowly travelling up and down in gentle motions. I want to ignore the butterflies in my stomach, but they’re restless and I feel hot.

“I know you have feelings for me,” she begins, her face so close to mine I can feel her breath on my skin and the little hairs on the back of my neck have gained a life of their own, along with these stupid butterflies.

“You always know everything.” I didn’t want to sound aggressive but that’s how it ends up coming out and I glance at her to make sure she doesn’t look hurt. She doesn’t.

“And I have feelings for you too.”

I can sense the violent blush that creeps at my cheeks and there’s no point hiding anything any more. She has likely known for a long time, bright and attentive as she is. I can’t bring myself to believe her words, however. Her voice is slightly slurred and, even with the colourful powder, her natural blush peaks from under the makeup. She’s obviously had a bit much to drink.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean,” I warn, looking away at the sky, dotted with milky stars. “You’re tipsy.”

“That I am,” I hear her chuckle and, out of nowhere, her mouth is on my neck, leaving open mouth kisses in its wake. “But I’m also in love with you.”

“Pieck, I-”

She tugs at my scraggy hair, a bit harsh but I don’t mind. I’m forced to look her in the face now and I notice that her lips are glossy and slightly tinted pink. Come to think of it, she’s always had glossy lips. I almost protest when she pulls me in for a passionate kiss, breathless and rough, even. Far more aggressive than our first kiss a few days ago. I blame the alcohol we’ve had too much of.

We both have a ticking clock looming over our heads, with mine being somewhat more generous than hers. All the more reason to enjoy whatever time we have left, she would argue. And she’s right.

I lose myself in her once more, that overly sweet scent of hers and her raspberry lips sinking into my skin and I enjoy every second of it. My bed is a mess of tangled sheets and tangled limbs, and she fell asleep again, her head on my chest like days before. This time, I know it’s not a dream.


End file.
